Don't Stand So Close To Me
by louise4
Summary: Chapter 2 Up! Severus Snape was not a romantic man but he could tell you the exact moment he fell in love with Hermione Granger.' Severus never wanted to Hermione into his life, now he can't get her out of his head. A SeverusHermione love story. SequelCom
1. Chapter One: Falling

**DISCALIMER**: I own nothing. Damn it.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: The title is taken from the Police's 'Don't Stand So Close to Me' written, I assume, by Sting.

And no comments about how cliché the song is please, pouts defensively

This is a companion/sequel to Born Too Late, this time from Severus' point of view.

**Don't Stand So Close To Me**

**by Louise**

**Chapter One: Falling**

Severus Snape was not a romantic man but he could tell you the exact moment he fell in love with Hermione Granger.

In a way, the whole thing had started with a conversation with his godson near the end of his sixth year at the school.

"_He didn't make me Head Boy," a very sulky Draco Malfoy appeared in Severus' classroom and he knew he wasn't going to get his marking finished after all._

"_What are you going to do about it?" Severus asked, gathering his things together and leading Draco into his private quarters and preparing them both some strong coffee._

"_I've already done it," and it was clearly spectacular if the look on his godson's face was anything to go by. "I might have just read the entirety of Slytherin house the riot act for my feud with Potter."_

"_The riot act?"_

"_Ok," Draco conceded the point; he tended not to loose his temper much any more, after his father pointed out that screaming temper tantrums were not acceptable in sixteen year olds. "But the tide will be turning and come September Granger and I will be Head Boy and Girl."_

Severus loved Draco more than he would ever admit, as he liked his cold bastard reputation, thank you very much. Even so, he had not been convinced that Draco could pull off a détente with the Gryffindors, even with some of the groundwork already laid.

That year's NEWT Level Potion's class had gone far better than Severus could ever have predicted. Potter was present but silent, apparently determined to pass and become an Auror and in return for the quiet life, Severus kept the barbed comments to a minimum. Serious talks with his father about the future had left Draco quieter and calmer than Severus had known was possible, and he too kept his head down and worked solidly. Even Hermione Granger was a pleasure to teach, and Potter's diligence allowed her to become the student he had always grudgingly known she could be.

He was both impressed and surprised at the change that Draco and Granger managed to bring about in Gryffindor/Slytherin relations, and he was quick to appreciate the formidable team they would make leading Hogwarts next year.

When their seventh year rolled around, Severus was delighted to be able to kill two birds with one stone and have them carry out their independent study at the same time. At first, he wondered at himself for allowing another student into his private relationship with Draco, but he was quick to appreciate the impact her quick brain and keen wit had on their conversation, and these sessions quickly became the highlight of his teaching timetable.

Eventually, however, the demands on their time became too great, and the study session was broken up, with Hermione now coming to him for three hours every Friday. They had been constrained by a painful politeness at first, each straining to maintain the previous air of cordiality, but feeling the pressure too much for them to have any real success. At last, however, they began to understand each other better, and they talked more freely for it.

She soon began broadening the limits of their conversations to include things outside of the classroom, questioning him about the wider wizarding world, the politics and the society. He in turn encouraged her to describe the muggle world, though he would never actually express his interest in it, rather he bought it up as a comparison to the world he knew, investigating the similarities and differences.

The final step was taken when, one perfectly ordinary Friday evening, she arrived rather than later and, at a mildly caustic remark, turned away meekly, tears in her eyes.

A brief struggle with himself later and Snape stepped forward, laying a hand on her shoulder, "Miss Granger, look at me." It was a command, however gently given, and she obeyed, turning red eyes up to look at him. "Tell me," he commanded.

She flushed slightly as she told him about the tutoring session she had been holding a few hours ago. A couple of months earlier Professor Flitwick had asked her to help a selection of his third years with some charms they were having trouble with, and she had really enjoyed the experience and really liked the pupils. Today, she told him, one of her favourites, Liam was being really uncooperative and disrupting the lesson, showing the sort of behaviour which she had not seen from him before.

"It's just really disappointing," she explained feeling completely stupid to have been upset my something so small, "I suppose I was stupid to make a favourite of him in the first place, but he was so enthusiastic and eager to please that I forgot that he could be difficult and, well, a total pain."

"You're an eighteen year old student Miss Granger, you are not expected to be able to handle difficult students and it is only natural to feel upset when you come up against that sort of resistance. That said, if you hope to teach in the future, try to learn from this. It is foolish to make favourites of adolescents, they will not appreciate the time you put into working with them, nor will they repay your fondness with consideration. You need to learn to distance yourself from your students."

The words were so firmly spoken and so clearly contradicted by his interaction with Draco during their private study sessions that she could not help the smile that spread over her face, smiling at both the humour and the reassurance that she found in his words.

He had seen her smile before, of course. She would break in to fond smiles whenever she saw Harry and Draco dancing around each other in sweet uncertainty. A wistful smile would sometimes cross her face when Ron and Pansy walked into the hall completely absorbed with each other. A smile of sheer mirth would cross her face at the antics of Seamus or Dean as they opened their newest purchases from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Then there was the smile of pure contentment that would slip onto her face when she was immersed in something she loved, be it working on some particularly complex concept in class, or surrounded by her two best friends.

So yes, he had seen her smile before, but never had that smile been directed at him. Never had so free an expression flooded her face when she looked at him, talked to him. And before it, he crumbled, weakened, let her in.

And suddenly there she was, in his private quarters and in his life, slotted into the gap that seemed made for her to fill.

So no, Severus Snape was not a romantic man but, looking back, he could tell you the exact moment he fell in love with Hermione Granger. It was when she smiled at him.

**End of Chapter One**

So what did you think?


	2. Chapter Two: Realising

**DISCALIMER**: I own nothing. Damn it.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: This is a companion/sequel to Born Too Late, this time from Severus' point of view.

**Don't Stand So Close To Me**

**by Louise**

**Chapter Two: Realising**

Severus Snape was not a romantic man but he could tell you the exact moment he realised he was in love with Hermione Granger.

He had made it almost to the end of her seventh and final year at Hogwarts without being disturbed by any sense of impropriety as far as his feelings for her went. He would acknowledge, however grudgingly, a certain degree of favouritism when it came to his dealings with her, and he was more than willing to give up some of his scarce free time to aid her should she request it. This was, however, no more than he was prepared to do so for Draco.

Equally, he invited her into his private quarters in the same way he would Draco, treating each teenager more like an equal, responding more to their intellects than their ages.

As such, it was nothing out of the ordinary when he, realizing her incessant chatter was not going to cease any time soon, invited her into his private quarters.

"Miss Granger, I sense that this conversation will be ending no time soon, not least because you have yet to stop for breath. I find myself in need of several papers from my quarters…maybe you would accompany me and we could finish this discussion in more comfortable surroundings."

"Ok," she had agreed, accepting the invitation with the same simplicity in which it was extended. Gathering her possessions she followed him through a portrait at the back of the classroom and into a large sitting room, of which a grand fireplace was the focal point.

Casually dropping her bags by the entrance she had made her way to a large black armchair close to the fire, sinking down into it with a sigh of pleasure. It had, he recollected, been her favourite chair since her first visit here, back when she was still sharing her personal study time with Draco. Then the two of them had sat together in front of the fire, bickering happily about some minor point that had arisen from that mornings arithmancy class, leaving Severus to busy himself in the background, sorting through his work and tidying up his notes.

Today she was occupied in watching the fire, her train of thought temporarily broken by the relocation to more comfortable surroundings.

Handing her a cup of tea he settled down in a matching chair at the other side of the fire and called her attention back to himself.

"You were telling me about the muggle studies programme at the London University. Woefully inadequate, I believe?"

"Indeed," she smiled at him before rolling her eyes as she resumed her diatribe, "it's what I want to study, but the way they do it…narrow is not the word. It's as if they have never even spent an afternoon in the muggle world, my world."

"You still think of it like that?" He was genuinely curious. Her passion for the muggle world was something that shone through whenever they discussed it, but he never understood how muggleborns could still identify with a world they all but lost touch with during their time at Hogwats.

"My family is there, the people I love most in the world, and, in so many ways, it is all that I know. No matter how much time I spend in the wizarding world, the truth of the matter is that most of that time is spent in one place: Hogwarts. I spend nine months of the year in the wizarding world but I know next to nothing about it. When I think of the future, when I think of what I'll do after school my frame of reference is muggle: going to university, getting a job and a driving license. When I think about where I'll live all I can see is a muggle flat, a place surrounded by cars and trains, with a cd player and a television. I know next to nothing about how young wizards live."

It was a good point, he mused, sipping his tea as he pondered her words. Hogwarts didn't really prepare one for the real world, and surely that was the point of education, to help shape you into the adult you are going to become, to send you off into the world knowing the right way to live.

"How would you change that?" He spoke his thoughts out loud, not entirely expecting an answer.

"Wizards allow muggleborns into their world, therefore they have a responsibility to prepare them properly for the future, for the real world. It is verging on cruel to do it any other way. Plucking a child of eleven out of the bosom of their family, telling them are special, that they are in some way better than those they have always known, and then bringing them into an environment where they are not special, quite the reverse. The child is then put into an environment where their muggle background is cast up against them and where they are seen as different. Then, seven years later, they are released, no longer able to function in the muggle world because they do not have a muggle education, but not completely part of the wizarding world because their lack of wizarding upbringing disadvantages them when it comes to real life. There needs to be some give and take on both sides."

"Go on," he encouraged her as she fell silent, amazed at the extent to which she had thought this out.

"There needs to be some compromise, something that allows the wizarding children a genuine choice about their future. The wizarding world needs to be properly educated when it comes to the muggle world. Purebloods need to have a decent understanding of what the world is really like, rather than rely on stories of 13th century witch hunts and fact finding missions that lasted all of an afternoon. A real, genuine investigation of the muggle world might lead to an appreciation of its strengths, rather than encouraging wizards to fear and deride muggles in equal measure. At the same time, there needs to be I don't know, careers advisers or something, someone in school that everyone, not just muggleborns, can go to to discuss what their options are. Discussing NEWT choices with your Head of House is alright, but getting completely impartial advice from someone who doesn't spend the majority of their time in a castle surrounded by teenagers would be far more useful."

"You make a good case Miss Granger," she flushed with pride as he praised her, but his next words pulled her mind in another direction. "However, with no such system available to you, what have you found out for yourself, for I assume you have already turned to our library for careers advice."

"I've found out far more about what I don't want," she confessed, "I want to do a muggle studies degree but so many of the courses are shockingly narrow, plus there doesn't seem to be that many British wizarding universities, and I don't want to leave my parents so far behind at the time when they could reasonably be expecting to see more of me, not less." She paused for a moment, flushing slightly as she spoke, "you don't have to tell me, but where did you study?"

"Here. I am one of those people who never had to tackle the big wide world. As a potions enthusiast I apprenticed under one of the great potions masters, a man who had been coerced into teaching at the school to do Dumbledore a favour. Had I traveled halfway around the world I could not have found anyone better. Dumbledore has a way of drawing people in, even those who could make far more of themselves outside of teaching."

Standing he placed his cup on the coffee table and moved over to the large bookcase that occupied the far wall. He could feel her eyes on him as he stood in front of one of her favourite features of the room – he'd had to tear her away the first time she saw it. Carefully extracting the books he was looking for he handed them to her without explanation, letting her discover their contents for herself.

As she just looked at them, clearly intimidated by their delecate appearance, he reassured her with a smile. "Be assured they will not break, Miss Granger. I acquired them more years ago that I can remember and found them remarkably useful to quieten Draco's ceaseless questions about his possible future. The first, imaginatively entitled "Careers", is a self updating record of the jobs that exist in the wizarding world today, anything from banker to Quidditch player, all with the requisite qualifications listed and comments from people involved in those areas of work. The other two are studies of the wizarding universities and the alternatives and provide enough information to satisfy even you. Return them when you have finished."

"Thank you sir," she smiled and gingerly opened the first book, before recollecting herself. Sliding the books into her bag with timid care, she picked up her cup of tea again, seemingly lost in thought.

For several minutes they sat together in silence and Severus was surprised at how comfortable the experience was. A naturally taciturn man, silence never troubled him, but he could often feel the unease of others, should they find themselves sitting in silence with him. Here, however, the silence felt natural, calming, almost.

It was Hermione was broke the silence, setting her cup down slowly and rising to collect her things "I should leave, I have…duties."

"Of course," he smiled, walking her to the door and trying to work out if he was imaging a change in her, a sudden confusion. "I expect I will probably see you tomorrow Miss Granger, goodnight."

The words had not struck him as anything special at the time, but looking back he realized this was probably his first conscious recognition of the sheer volume of time they spent together.

Over a week had passed since their last evening together, and Severus was finding it difficult to ignore the feelings associated with this: it was almost as if he missed Hermione Granger.

Teachers, he reminded himself severely, were not meant to miss their students when they weren't around.

Especially not their young, female students who were young enough to be their daughter.

He had been preparing his classroom for a particularly temperamental first year class when she finally sought him out once again, his books clutched to her chest like a security blanket, or a shield.

She stood in front of him in what was _not_ a comfortable silence, her agitation too near the surface for him to be comfortable. The reason for her unsettled demeanour soon became clear.

"I bought these back," she handed him the books as she spoke, finally shattering the awkward silence.

"Were they of any use?" he asked, wondering why he suddenly found it so hard to talk to her when only a week ago they could have spent hours in conversation.

"Indeed. Thank you."

She just stood there in silence again, staring at him, hand fidgeting in front of her until finally he felt compelled to speak.

"Was there something else, Miss Granger?"

Hermione took a step forward, flushing slightly, "I just wanted to say thanks, for everything. For helping me, for listening, for putting up with me," she laughed weakly, "just, well, thanks. You don't know how much you, it meant to me. Means to me," she looked up at him shyly, "Severus."

There was no mistaking any of what she had said, and even as a big part of him reeled in panic at so obvious an invitation from so unlikely a source, a small part of him wanted to laugh at the insanity of it all. Severus Snape, heartless, evil potions master the subject of a school girl crush, and from a Gryffindor at that.

As he stood there wrestling with himself as to the best way to handle this situation she upped the stakes, stepping forward and turning her earnest gaze up towards him. As she unconsciously wet her lips he realized he had to call a halt to things now before the situation got any more out of hand.

"I think you should leave, Hermione," he said as gently as he could, not even realizing that he had broken his carefully observed protocol of only using surnames. Clearly mortified she spun away from him, fleeing the room. She was clearly hurt by the dismissal but what else had she expected? Surely she could not have expected any other response from him, and yet he could not but feel sad that he had caused her pain.

He knew without doubt that their most recent encounter would be their last – after the chance she had taken and the rejection she had received nothing else would be feasible. She would, he knew, avoid him during her last week at Hogwarts before going to university and getting on with her life. Eventually she would realize that what she felt for him was a simple school girl crush and in all probability would be secretly embarrassed to find she was as susceptible to weakness as everyone else. Finally she would come to look back on the whole thing as an embarrassing experience that would none the less provide her something to laugh over with her friends and boyfriend. A crush on the greasy git! What was she thinking?

Truth be told, none of this was making him feel any better about the whole incident and he was becoming uncomfortably aware of a feeling close to disappointment gripping him whenever he thought about never seeing Hermione Granger again.

It was illogical, ironic and horribly mistimed, but he was suddenly struck with the suggestion that his feelings for Hermione weren't quite as disinterested as he would like to believe. That he was thinking of her as Hermione was bad enough, but some of the other thoughts that struck him as she made her clumsy offer were certainly not those of a teacher. She was, he mused, in almost every way exactly the kind of woman he wanted: smart, opinionated, funny and not in the least bit scared of him. Had they met in other circumstances, had she not spent nearly seven years being forced to obey him without questioning, he was certain that she would challenge him forcibly, freely arguing with him rather than quietly turning remorseful eyes on him when he said or did something she disagreed with.

But that, in a nut shell, was the problem.

She was his student, his very young student. That above all was a problem that could be overcome. It wasn't the only imperfection – her muggle background, her Gryffindor status, her bloody-mindedness when it came to issues such as house-elf liberation and her scary devotion to the written word were all drawbacks, but they could be overcome.

But to start up a relationship with a student would be disastrous. In and of itself the age difference was negligible, especially in light of the wizarding lifespan, but it would be something her parents would not be able to tolerate. His job, too, would be tenuous if not entirely unsalvageable, for Albus could surely not overlook something so major as the sullying of one of his precious Gyffindors. Not to mention the changes she would go through over the next few years, almost surely growing beyond whatever she felt for him at this moment.

Deep down, however, he was clinging to the fact that she would be gone within a week because he wasn't sure if any amount of reasoning could overcome the ache he felt every time he thought about not seeing her again.

If she was to remain in his life he knew that the urge to run to her would be too strong to resist, and when with her it was only a small step to holding her, kissing her…loving her.

The heart wants what it wants Severus, there is no rhyme or reason when it comes to love. How many times had he heard Albus utter those words without believing the truth in them? He didn't want to be in love with a student, but he _was_ irrevocably in love with Hermione Granger.

As if that thought had opened a floodgate in his mind, Severus was assaulted by a hundred realizations as truths he had repressed at once clamoured to make themselves heard.

You don't see her as a student anymore, you see her as a woman.

She is bright and funny and attractive.

She is in many ways exactly the kind of woman you could fall for.

In the wizarding world twenty years is nothing, the age difference is nothing.

You look forward to her Friday night study sessions.

You'll miss her when she leaves.

You love her.

So no, Severus Snape was not a romantic man but, looking back, he could tell you the exact moment he realised he was in love with Hermione Granger. It was the moment he began to miss her when she was no longer there.

**End of Chapter Two**

So what did you think?


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